


One Foot on the Ground

by orphan_account



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anxious Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He climbs into Jason's bed quietly and smoothly.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 10
Kudos: 260





	One Foot on the Ground

He climbs into Jason’s bed quietly and smoothly, as he’s done a few times before. Tim’s fingers spindle around the edge of the bed, looking for purchase so he can fit himself onto the edge farthest away from the only other person in it. Tim doesn’t want to wake Jason. He would prefer the vigilante with the broken leg stayed down, tried not to move.

Briefly and for no real reason, Tim checks Jason’s pulse. He watches it thump strong and even from the base of his throat. The pace of his heartbeat moves so slowly and evenly that for a moment Tim feels hypnotized. Drawn in.

They’re on a California king bed, so in theory, Tim has room to move. But when he looks at Jason, the desire dies.

“Will you shut the fuck up already?”

Tim prickles, momentarily going out of his skin. Did Jason just say that?

“You’re awake?”

“Of course I’m awake. Some fucking weirdo just broke into my safe house. And he won’t stop thinking.”

Jason doesn’t crack an eye or a smile, but that’s almost how it feels to Tim. He feels chastised, but in a way that means no real harm. He hopes that’s what’s actually going on.

But Tim can never be too sure, so he swings his legs underneath him quietly and, without even disturbing the gravity of the bed, leaps off.

It’s not so much the idea of Jason rejecting him – although that is a terrifying thought – as it is Tim’s desperate need to be secure in this moment. He can get easy security from anyone. Tim has good family, and way too much of it, so he’ll never have to stand alone.

But he wants security from Jason. Tim wants Jason to let him in and feel for him and know where he’s coming from. Jason’s just as fucked as Tim is, and if not, then he holds the crowning title for being fucked. He understands so many different things. Tim does, too, but his understanding is always more… technical.

Tim can explain a causal reaction between one psychological disorder and its possible symptom expression clinically, but he can’t tell you his opinion on it. He doesn’t embed himself in his information. He just embeds information into himself.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Tim supplies airily.

His heart is beating too quickly, and he can’t regulate. Tim’s gone too long without sleep for finer functions like that one.

“And?” Jason asks, eyes still closed.

Tim blinks. He feels his heart palpitate. He fights the urge to gnaw at the inside of his cheek.

“You look okay to me.”

Better than okay, always better than okay, but Tim isn’t going to go there. Not tonight.

It doesn’t matter. Jason snorts and the sound is physical on Tim’s skin. He drinks it in and feels it vibrate through him. Tim made him sound like that. Tim made that sound. He blinks from where he’s still hovering at the end of the bed.

“Lay down.” Jason commands.

His voice is confident. He isn’t looking for an argument, or even a disagreement.

Tim lays back down. He blinks owlishly, fevered thoughts flying in his brain. Is Jason too tired to remember he doesn’t really like Tim that much? Is he also too tired to remember how much he hates it when someone breaks into one of his new safe houses? Is he really okay? Tim almost wants to check Jason’s vitals. His temperature, at the minimum. Just to be sure that he has no reason to worry.

Not that it’s Tim’s job to worry about Jason, because it isn’t his job. He does like to volunteer though. Quite a bit.

Without even realizing it’s happened, Tim is being trapped underneath Jason’s left arm. He’s glued to his spot, now, unable to move. Tim’s lungs empty completely in a rush. He gives and he gives and he gives himself away. Jason is so close, there’s no way he didn’t hear it. Or feel it, even, maybe.

“Oh, okay,” Tim mumbles to himself.

Jason doesn’t normally touch him. No one normally touches him – Tim hasn’t given anyone he’s close to the illusion that he’s interested in physical contact. For the most part Tim really isn’t interested in it. He uses contact when he needs (typically on a mission), but… that’s about it. In Tim’s mind, that kind of thing is unnecessary. Distracting without purpose.

He’s gotten weirder since he entered into his senior year of high school. All the stress has compounded, and it’s beginning to shift into his personality. Tim is going taut, more and more rigid by the second. He’s overthinking. Overheating. Going into overdrive.

Instead of being irritated by Tim’s strange behavior, Jason seems to embrace it at every turn. Tim didn’t mold himself into Jason’s space. He didn’t move when Jason touched him. Too afraid to break the moment. So Jason just got closer. His face is now planted in the side of Tim’s neck.

Tim’s heart is beating markedly faster as a result. He feels his chest rise and fall in these fitting and starting breaths. They’re weak. Needy in their weakness.

Tim slips his hands around Jason’s arm across his middle and searches for control. Where is the control he had over his body? Where’s the control he had over his mouth?

Jason opens his own mouth and asks, with all his breath straining and wet, “Should I move?”

It’s too much. Tim whines and finally struggles, using distance as a safety net. He disconnects his contact with Jason in every place but one. Tim twines his hand over Jason’s and hastily brings it to his mouth.

He kisses Jason’s knuckles quickly, with no finesse. It’s sloppy work. Tim’s almost shaking with all the emotions he has, not the least of which being elation. His apprehension pulls him up short, though, and a moment later Tim has dropped Jason’s hand. 

He’s in his suit, still. It digs in everywhere, and there’s currently a grenade grinding against his hip, but Tim isn’t thinking about that.

Jason’s eyes are still closed. He just smiles and nods.

“Come back here.” Jason rumbles.

Tim’s brow knits cartoonishly, broadcasting all his emotion. His skin is hot and tight. The hero can’t think straight. He whines again, clearly distraught.

Jason huffs. A moment later his hand is resting next to Tim.

The hand doesn’t move. It doesn’t come closer or farther, doesn’t fold or grasp. It’s idle. Waiting on Tim.

“Lay on top of me,” Tim chokes out, still hot to the touch from wanting too much. “please.”

Tim sees Jason start to move and flinch. He takes Jason’s hand on instinct and squeezes it, telling him nonverbally to cease and desist. Tim crawls forward, when he feels confident enough. He stalks feather-light until he’s all but already beneath Jason.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

Jason finds him again. He lifts his good leg and wrenches his good arm around Tim, encircling him with weight and warmth. It’s not complete – half of Jason is still on the bed – but it’s enough for the moment.

The pressure on Tim’s chest forces his heartbeat to slow. The smell of Jason alone is calming enough for Tim to begin fingering at the catches of his uniform. He works it off really slowly. The last thing he wants is to disturb Jason’s injury.

When Tim’s naked he gets under the covers. Jason cups the place where Tim’s heart rests and he sighs far too shakily for his own good.

There’s something to be said about trust. Tim knows how hard Jason’s trust is to earn. He whines again and shifts, uncomfortable anew.

Jason huffs out a breath. It’s his version of a laugh, sometimes. Any other time Tim would love to hear it. But now the sound just makes him want to burrow.

With his mouth tucked away in Tim’s neck, Jason finds it easy to kiss a line down the sensitive skin trailing beneath Tim’s ear. He makes every press slow, draws it out so Tim has no choice but to feel what Jason wants him to feel. It’s a good feeling.

Tim’s making it clear with the way he’s practically writhing where Jason’s weight has him pinned.

“What is it, Red?” Jason finally asks.

Minutes drift past. There’s an analogue clock somewhere in Jason’s room. A dying smoke detector chirps one apartment above.

“I trust you.” Is what Tim eventually says.

“New thing?” Jason is drawing on Tim’s chest.

Random shapes and characters above the sheet. It’s sweet.

“Just made up my mind a minute ago.” Tim shoots off.

It’s not something he’d say. It’s more something Jason would say. Or Damian. Or Dick. Anyone else would make a joke but Tim.

Tim has trusted Jason since before he knew him. He trusted Jason even when Jason completely hated him. Tim thinks the world of Jason.

“Kiss me again.” Jason answers.

Tim likes direct orders. They make him feel like not everything is so bad. Orders are his own version of clarity, sometimes. It’s much easier to be a ghost in the machine. And for Jason, Tim will do anything. He wants to kiss him. He wants to show Jason how much he cares.

The first kiss lands on Jason’s forehead. Tim can feel the smile through his skin. He kisses Jason’s cheek after that. A feather-light peck gets on his chin, then his jaw. Tim traces back up to kiss ultra-light freckles on Jason’s face.

He starts making needy sounds again. Tim can’t help it.

“Jason,” he murmurs after every few kisses.

Tim could go on like this forever.

**Author's Note:**

> comments r always appreciated. happy new year 💘


End file.
